The Doctor Rose
by Atakiri Mizuyuki
Summary: John Smith is a normal 18th-century human with spectacular dreams-every night he dreams of a miraculous woman named the Doctor who zips across time and space in a blue box.  **AU, NO ROMANCE, Rose-Doctor flip**


The Doctor Rose

_Doctor Who_, AU Fic

John Smith frowned and scribbled a few words down in his journal as he procrastinated getting to his classroom. He really did have to stop being late for these things, but he couldn't help it—his dreams of the Doctor were just too interesting.

They'd appeared in his dreams for months, now, fascinating him (and making him think he was just a touch mad)—a blonde haired woman, named the Doctor, a dark blue rose pinned to the lapels of her brown coat, whizzing through the stars in a big blue box. It was completely ridiculous—for one thing, a woman being a doctor? But more than that, a box that could fly through space! And she had changed faces, too—at one point she was a young girl from Scotland, from the future, and then she had changed into a black woman, and then into an older woman with a fiery personality, and countless other faces over countless years. It was completely ludicrous and could probably have him committed.

But god, he loved those dreams.

"Mr. Smith!" He jumped several feet in the air, the pair of glasses he wore purely because it made him feel smart falling off the bridge of his nose and clattering to the ground. Standing in the door, looking quite scolding, was the Matron of the All-Boy's School where he was a teacher. She looked severe, but was actually quite nice. John had feelings for her, but he was too shy to tell her. "You're going to be late to class! Again!"

"Yes, you're quite right!" he shouted, leaping to his feet and dropping the journal of impossible ideas on the couch below him. "My apologies—it's these dreams of mine! I simply can't stop thinking about them upon waking up!" He ran his hand through his hair—which had a remarkable tendency to stick up of its own accord in a most attractive way—and remembered what it was he was trying to recall. He dove over the side of the sofa, scooped up his school books in his arms, and turned back to the door, smiling in satisfiedly. Which wasn't a word. But he was in a hurry.

"Your cap," the Matron reminded him flatly, a hint of a smile twitching at the corners of her lips. John leapt in surprise and in a flash dumped the pile of books in her arms and fixed his cap to his head, the dangle dangling in a danglingly annoying way right in his face, and grabbed the books again.

"Yes! Thank you! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to be late!" he cried, shuffling past her quickly and then tearing down the hall. The Matron smiled after him and walked into his room to steady it after the teacher's storm of haste. She righted a couple picture frames that had been knocked over, then picked up his journal to close it and set it on a bedside table.

Her eye caught on a recently drawn image of a woman's face, the ink a bit smudged from the unceremonious dropping of the journal while it was still wet. She opened the journal further, gazing at the face. It was a young woman—very young, most likely not even twenty yet, with fair hair near her shoulders. Floating beneath the face was an image of a rose, gorgeously detailed, and right below that words scrawled as if unconsciously—Bad Wolf.

The Doctor yawned and ruffled her hair, trying to stay awake in the heavy, misty air of whatever part of Earth she had actually landed on. Her watch told her it was some time in the 1700's, but she didn't care much about that—all she wanted to do was find the alien and get out.

Her eyes scanned the horizons—the dank grey sky, the rolling green hills, the old and nearing-dilapidation school house down the way. The alien was lurking somewhere in there, she was sure of it, disguised as one of the school's all-boy students. The question was locating him and getting rid of him in as quiet a manner as possible. The Timelord had already dealt with enough problems caused by her often flamboyant interactions with the past—she wanted to rest for a while before causing more mayhem. Not like that was ever possible.

A small string of boys exited the school, winding their way down the narrow road. She watched them intently, wondering if she could pick out her prey already. It was no good—they were just too far away and like mere black blotches. Deciding that a more direct method would be needed, she strode away from her TARDIS—after making it beep twice like a car—and followed after them.

The town which they arrived at was quiet and small; it had its own sort of quaint, rural life to it, as people walked across the town's central green with their sheep, or a small family strolled by with their children, but it bored the Doctor to no end. Small little places like this were cute in the history books, but so _dull_ to actually visit! She wanted to get back out among the stars again, watching supernovas explode with a bag of popcorn to one side, or running down long corridors in steaming spaceships from monsters, or even swimming in one of the many sugar-water seas of Galactose 6. Not stuck in eighteenth-century Britain (she was pretty sure she was in Britain, judging by the fog) stalking a gaggle of school boys in case one of them was the exiled son of a family of bounty hunters.

…. It was a lot more dull than the last statement makes it sound.

She walked closer to the small cafe-like store where several of the boys were sitting, now, talking animatedly as they waited for their food to arrive. Most of the boys seemed quite happy and excited and were gesticulating wildly as the spoke—one boy, though, tucked away in the back, and who looked remarkably like a young Tom Riddle as far as the Doctor was concerned, was sitting quietly and tensely, as if trying to hide in plain sight.

The Doctor smirked to herself and strode forward with triumph in her steps—bingo.

The boy gazed about the town with a mix of anxiety and irritation, probably as bitter about being in this dull time era as the Doctor was. His eye caught on the Doctor, and his reaction gave the Doctor a deep sense of satisfaction; he leapt into the air as if he was bitten, his face a mask of shock and horror, and tried to scrabble over the table and the boys. They raised a fuss and blocked his way, effectively trapping him. Stuck with nothing else to do, the alien's expression turned to fury, and he pointed at her and shouted: "You won't take me, Doctor!"

The Doctor laughed and stopped walking, sticking her hands in her pockets and smiling broadly.

"You attack my ship and then scamper off to Earth, and you thought I wouldn't _follow_?" she asked playfully, wagging her finger. "I'm like the big bad wolf! If you mess with me, I'll _bite!_" She brought her teeth together with a loud _clack_ and pulled out her sonic screwdriver—with a few seconds of _whirring,_ the perception filter gave out with a _pop_ andthe awkward Tom Riddle look-alike suddenly turned into a large… thing_, _a mixture of six-foot-tall alien and bipedal fish. The alien jumped once more, this time successfully extricating himself from the table, the other boys too stunned to react, and landing in the open green around them.

People were running and screaming now, coming out of stores to see the horrific sight or else fleeing for their lives out of the town. Suddenly the quiet village with its apparent population of ten had burst into a veritable palooza of running and screaming and seemed to be filled with an entire country. The alien roared a challenge from its position and leapt into the air, diving for the Doctor. She quickly rolled out of the way, running towards the store front the fish-bug-thing had just left, looking for cover. There was a high-pitched whining and the Doctor dove to the ground, right as a laser blast shot over her head and blew up part of the store's wall.

She tried to stand up, already preparing her sonic screwdriver to emit a frequency that would make the laser blaster blow up in its owner's face when a hand suddenly clamped itself around her ankle. She kicked out, trying to shake the hand lose, but the grip only tightened. She looked to her captor and saw the stunned face of the teacher who had followed the boys out of the school looking at her.

"Y-you're the Doctor," John Smith stammered, recognition and denial in his eyes at once. Instead of dismissing him, the Doctor frowned, interested. "From my… dreams… The time traveling woman in her blue box…" The Doctor smiled a little, more bemused than anything. She pointed her sonic screwdriver at the man's face and pressed the button; John let go of the Doctor's leg in order to shield his eyes, but she didn't bolt.

"Huh, low-level psychic field," she said, looking at her sonic screwdriver. "Interesting—I take it—" A laser blast and a shower of painful rubble reminded her where she was. "Right!" She leapt to her feet and weaved her way between the screaming people who were still running uselessly about, flicking her sonic screwdriver into a proper frequency.

In the middle of the green the alien was starting to try and run off.

"No you don't!" she shouted, pressing the screwdriver's button with both thumbs and holding it straight out in front of her. There was a _pop_ and a shower of sparks, and the alien roared as the laser blaster exploded in its hand. Infuriated, now, it spun around and charged at her. She rolled out of the way at the last second, sending the alien's skull crashing into the stone wall behind her. She darted away, knowing it was made of tougher stuff than the wall, but tripped as the alien threw the useless remains of its gun behind it, pegging her in the leg.

She rolled across the green, grunting in pain, her sonic screwdriver flying out of her hand and out of view into the long grass. She groped wildly for it, the alien already turning back around to charge her again, but it was too late.

There was a new scream, and a flash of movement. And then a pause, right as the alien crouched to leap at her.

And then the alien toppled forward, revealing the frightened but determined face of John Smith behind it, an immense rock held in his hands, right about where the fish-bug-thing's head had been. He looked at the Doctor, and their eyes met.

She smiled widely at him, and he managed a weak smile in return.

"It's true, then—it's all true," he said, watching as the Doctor flipped through his Journal of Impossible Things, looking rather amused. "You really do travel through time, and see new planets. You've had a hundred different faces, and even more companions who travel with you."

"Well, not a hundred," the Doctor replied, twisting the book upside down and squinting at a particularly ink-heavy image. "I'm on ten, now, actually. My tenth regeneration."

John Smith fell back against the sofa, staring off into nothing. He never would have believed it, ever, but there she was—the Doctor, just as he had imagined, her short blonde hair, the rose clipped against her jacket, everything. There was no way he could deny it. She was _real_.

"May I see it?" he asked tentatively. She looked away from the book and fixed her eyes on him. He could see, somewhere deep in her eyes, that she truly was hundreds of years old, there. He could see the deep pain and loneliness that ached the poor Doctor, that she had shoved down in order to keep on living. A lonely soul that used that have little and now had nothing—no family, no home, no planet. "The TARDIS. May I…" She thought a moment, then shrugged, smiling.

"Sure, why not." She led him to it, away from the school and parked on the top of a hill, surrounded by nothing but flat green grass. He stared at it in awe, running his hands along the blue-painted wood.

"The TARDIS…" he breathed, feeling a childlike excitement come to life in him. Behind him, the Doctor smiled and walked to the doors, sticking the key into the lock and, with a click, pushing them open.

"You want to see inside?" He scrambled over to her and looked over her shoulder. He gave an audible gasp, and the Doctor fought down a laugh.

"It's really bigger on the inside!"

"I love it when people say that," she said, walking into the TARDIS and throwing her coat over one of the beams. She stretched her arms out in front of her and strode toward the central console.

John Smith's expression slowly turned from wonder to unease. He stood awkwardly outside of the doors, rubbing his hands together uncomfortably. The Doctor arched and eyebrow at him and leaned against the console, folding her arms over her chest.

"Do you want to come with me?" John blinked in disbelief, his hands freezing. She smiled and gestured to the rest of the TARDIS, hidden from sight behind panels and disguised staircases. "See all of space and time, the future and the past, different planets and creatures and civilizations you could never dream about…" She shrugged. "I get lonely sometimes, traveling all by myself. You were brilliant with that alien today; you really saved me. And that psychic field around you has caught some of my adventures—you should already know the basics, I imagine, which would take out the tedious part of getting you up to snuff. It'd be my pleasure to travel with you." John stood there, aghast, taking the TARDIS in.

"I could…" He felt the Journal of Impossible Things in his pocket, suddenly burning as if it could feel its source material right in front of it. He looked over his shoulder at the school building, small and forlorn behind him. His thoughts drifted to the Matron, who had shouted at him to stop when he went after the alien, who he had always liked, and was considering marrying one day.

"You don't have to," the Doctor added, frowning a little bit and trying to keep her disappointment out of her voice. "That lady friend of yours… She seemed rather displeased with my appearance," she added, grinning a bit, as she recalled the Matron's hidden indignation when John Smith had brought the Doctor up to his room to show her the journal. "But she did seem pretty fond of you. If you don't want to leave her, you don't have to join me."

John Smith found himself reviewing his life—every last moment. His happy but dull childhood, the monotony of school and then finally becoming a teacher. Every day content, but the same, over and over and over and over. He enjoyed being with Joan, the Matron, and marrying her would brighten up his life a little. But then things would be the same, once again. The same day but with a different name and a different square on the calendar. The only excitement in his life, the only real joy, had come at night, when he would dream about the Doctor.

"Where will we go first?" he asked excitedly, grinning at the Doctor. She smiled back and flew to the controls, pulling levers and pushing buttons. John Smith strode quickly into the TARDIS, closing the doors behind him, and ran up to the console as well, gazing eagerly at the array of lights and screens and speakers.

"Further than you've ever gone before!" the Doctor assured him with equal excitement as the _hums_ of the TARDIS' engine reverberated around them.

[END]

An AU fic where Rose is the Doctor and the Doctor is a human companion. Some of the Doctor Rose's regenerations were Amy Pond, Martha Jones, and Donna Noble. XDDDDD This fic's base is based on the episodes "Human Nature" and "The Family of Blood" from Season 3. "John Smith" seemed like the only appropriate name to the give to the Doctor, since it's the one he always takes. XDDDD And since he has to be human, why not make the episodes when he _was_ human real? Also, this is slightly me bashing the DoctorXMatron pairing, since I always really hated that anyway :evillaugh: Written for the DoctorXRose_deviantArt Group's contest.


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